


The Shape of You

by EndoratheWitch



Series: Intimate stories [46]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, F/M, Falling In Love, Gym Sex, Gyms, Human AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne takes up boxing to manager her anger.
Relationships: Bog King/Marianne (Strange Magic)
Series: Intimate stories [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/288605
Comments: 12
Kudos: 96





	The Shape of You

The sound of his fists hitting the bag was a comforting sound, combined with the panting of his breath, the jerk and grind of the chain as the punching bag swung, mixing with the loud thump of Marylin Manson’s “Fight Song” playing over the gym’s speakers while he worked all combined to relaxed Bog. He smiled while moving around a little, sweat pouring down his back as he worked. He liked coming into his gym early to get in a bit of exercise by himself. 

He was wearing only his boxing shorts; otherwise he was barefoot, shirtless, his hands wrapped while he punched the bag over and over again. Watching the bag and the fall of his fists, Bog punched, weaved, punched again. He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t notice the beep that sounded when the back door of the gym opened and his mother came in. 

* 

Griselda, dressed in a long green skirt and a dark rose peasant blouse, parked her car behind the gym next to her son’s motorcycle. She hopped out of her car and reached back in to grab a few things before she made her way into the gym, balancing her coffee and a bag of fresh muffins from the coffee shop down the street. She frowned slightly at the volume of the music. The gym wasn’t open yet, but she still couldn’t understand why Bog always had this sort of music playing so loudly. How could he hear himself think, she thought as she walked through the locker room to the front. She heard the sound of fists striking a bag and came around the corner when she saw Bog punching the bag; she stopped to watch her son. He looked so much like his father with his thick black hair, brilliant blues, and and his physique--which was all long limbed, broad shoulders and sharp angles. Though Bog’s father hadn’t had that ‘angry at the world’ expression that her son usually carried with him. 

She frowned while she watched him, punching that bag harder and harder. She wondered what had happened to make him angry this time. There had been a party last night at the Dark Forest pub for Theo and Steph, in which the two of them had gotten engaged. Bog had seemed fine, but maybe the party had set him off after all. Sighing, Griselda realized her son still held that hurt in him, that wound that Sheila had made on his heart when she rejected him, humiliated him, insulted him. Twat, Griselda thought viciously. It had been nearly two years since Sheila, but Bog had been alone that entire time, never a date, and she knew her son had no intention of ever getting involved with anyone. 

Her brow knitted in concern as she watched her boy fight his demons. She just wished she could find a young woman to see him, really see her son for the wonderful man that he was so that he wouldn’t be so lonely. After what had happened with his last girlfriend, he had sworn off love, deciding that being alone was what he was supposed to be. 

That was Griselda’s biggest fear, that she would die and her son would be left alone with no one, and he would wither away. She shook her head and turned to head into the office to get a jump on the paperwork before the boxing gym opened for the day. There was no point dwelling, she decided. She had work to do and the problem of her son would not be solved anytime soon. 

Bog saw the light turn on in the gym’s office from the corner of his eyes. He knew it was his mother without looking; she was the only one besides him who would show up here this early. He smiled and focused back on his boxing. He had another half hour before he needed to shower and open up. 

* 

Marianne stomped down the sidewalk. People hurriedly got out of her way when they saw the look on the short, punky young woman’s face. Under her short spiky purple streaked hair Marianne’s usually kind brown eyes blazed with fury, her delicate rose bud of a mouth was turned down in a scowl, and she was even growling when someone didn’t move fast enough. 

She had been having a perfectly pleasant morning, deciding that since it was her day off she would stop by her favorite coffee shop to buy some of her favorite coffee and a blueberry muffin since Fridays (and she had a four day weekend this weekend) were always fresh blueberry muffins day. 

Except today had been a disaster when she walked in and saw standing in line, Roland, her ex-fiance and his girlfriend Rachel--the woman he had cheated on Marianne with the very day she was supposed to marry the bastard--arm in arm. 

Granted, that whole mess had been over a year ago, but it still stung like a freshly opened wound whenever she thought about it. And seeing Roland right now was like pouring acid on that open wound. 

Frozen in the doorway of the shop Marianne had simply stared. This couldn’t real she told herself. This was the first day of her long weekend where everything was going to be great, she couldn't start her weekend like this! 

She was over Roland, she had no doubts on that, but still, it stung to see him with Rachel, the woman who had been her friend. Marianne had thought Rachel has been her best friend, who had tossed their friendship away and jumped in bed with the man Marianne had been on the verge of marrying.That had hurt even more. If it had been anyone else that Roland had cheated on her with, she might have healed faster, but Rachel had been Marianne’s best friend since grade school. This betrayal had cut very deep, especially when Marianne realized that Rachel had never been her friend, but had been using her all this time. Roland was the reason she had sworn off dating or relationships at all...sworn off love. God, if she had only listened to her sister Dawn. 

To make matters worse, Roland chose that moment to turn around and see her. The sneer that formed on his face made Marianne want to slap him, (to be fair, Roland just looking at her in any form made her want to do that.) 

“Oh, hey Marianne! Long time no see...ah.” Roland made a point of looking her up and down with Rachel doing the same. “Nice to see you being so casual. I see you’re still not interested in getting and keeping a man…being that independent woman you always wanted, eh?” Both Roland and Rachel smirked. 

Roland added with a mock smile and a wink. “But you keep doing you Marianne.” 

They both snickered at her. 

Everyone in the coffee shop turned and stared at her, but no one said anything. Why would they? It wasn’t any of their business and while Marianne could see the female barista behind the counter look at Roland as if she wanted to throw hot coffee at him, she said nothing. Maybe Marianne would get lucky and the girl would spit in Roland’s and Rachel’s coffee. 

Her hands balled up into fists. Marianne wanted to do something, but she felt humiliated. She could feel her face turning red as she struggled with something to say to Roland’s and Rachel’s smug looks, but instead Marianne simply turned around and left the coffee shop, certain she could hear them laughing at her retreating back. 

Marianne growled again as she continued to stomp down the sidewalk. She just knew this was going to ruin her weekend, no matter how hard she tried not to let it. Roland’s face and words would haunt her all weekend making her question herself again...just like after their almost marriage broke up. 

Stopping in her tracks, Marianne took a deep breath, let it out slowly and turned. She was standing next to a large picture window that had painted in big letters at the top: KING BOXING. 

Frowning slightly, Marianne stepped closer and cupped her hands around her eyes so she could see inside. 

There, wearing only a pair of dark blue boxer shorts and nothing else was a tall man--extremely tall--broad shoulders, and slender, but with the well-toned muscles of someone who was athletic with just a small smattering of hair on his chest. His hair was short, thick on the top and deep, dark black. His features were sharp, all angles, and rough edges...and he was the most attractive man Marianne had ever seen. He wasn’t traditionally attractive, she could see that, but there was something riveting about him. He was punching a hanging punching bag, moving around like a dancer, his focus completely on the bag. Even with the glass between them, she could sense his focus and power. 

“Wow…” she murmured before she stepped back and looked at the name again. “King Boxing gym…” She rubbed her lips together in thought. Attractive man aside...that might be just what she needed, something to punch and punch a lot. She looked around the window, then the door, and saw that they offered boxing and kickboxing classes...and they opened in an hour. Marianne smiled to herself. She knew there was a sports clothing store a block away. Perhaps some lessons in how to hit things was just what she needed to let off some of her aggression. 

* 

Bog showered and pulled on a fresh pair of boxing shorts and a dark blue athletic fit t-shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders and slender waist (not on purpose, he just liked the cut of the shirts and how they felt, never realizing what they did for his body.) He slipped on his black tennis shoes and headed out into the gym. Their usual customers would be slowly dropping in over the course of the day for some simple freestyle workouts and they offered a couple of boxing classes. His favorite and the only actual class he taught was the boxing class for eight to ten year olds. Between that class and the private instruction he gave for people wanting to pursue boxing as a professional sport and career, Bog’s days were busy. 

He smiled when he walked into the main body of the gym to see Brutus, a tall, thick bald-headed man built like a brick building. The big man had arrived and was teaching some young women how to hit the bags properly. Bog smirked. Brutus was always the flirt, but the women really responded to him. He wasn’t a very handsome man, but Brutus has his own charm and he had no problem teaching a woman how to take him down with a few good punches and kicks. He was always polite and respectful to the women and they flocked to Brutus like bees to honey. 

On the other side of the gym Ian had begun his aerobic boxing class. Bog could just barely hear the pop music Ian preferred to use for his classes. The young man was handsome with his dyed blonde hair, shining black eyes, slender figure; he was as pretty as he was handsome...and way too cheerful for Bog’s taste. He liked the kid, but how anyone could smile like that 24-7 was beyond him. That much cheerfulness grated on his nerves. 

Bog shook his head and was heading over to the office to speak with his mother when the front door jingled. He looked over and suddenly Bog couldn’t move. 

The most beautiful woman walked into his gym. 

She was short--probably would come up to the middle of his chest--with short brown hair highlighted with dark purple streaks. Her eyes were large and golden brown, framed by thick black lashes. She had a petite nose and a sweet, kissable mouth. She had a trim figure and there was a strength about her that Bog could sense from where he stood across the gym. 

He swallowed and felt his heart crack a little. 

The young woman held a dark purple gym bag decorated with butterflies flung over her shoulder and was dressed to work out wearing black boxer shorts, a dark purple athletic bra top and purple high tops, looking both sexy and ready to get down to business. 

Bog suddenly panicked and turned, rushing to the office to get his mother to handle the new girl. Bog didn’t want anything to do with her. 

* 

Marianne looked around with a smile. Yes, this was just what she needed, a place to punch out her aggression. A giant bag with Roland’s smug face on it that she could punch repeatedly and often. 

She caught a glimpse of the man she had seen before, now wearing a shirt, just as he disappeared into the gym’s office. She could see that the office was a small room with large windows that allowed everyone to see inside and those inside to look out. She could see the man from earlier in there talking to an older woman who was working at a computer. She had no idea what was being said, but the man was gesturing...in her direction? While he spoke, the older woman looked up and over at her. 

Marianne frowned. Why would they be talking about her? 

* 

“Mam, I need you to go out there and help that young woman,” Bog stated, pointing out the window. 

“What?” Griselda frowned as she looked up at Bog. Her son looked strange, she noted, but her gaze followed his long arm and finger to see a beautiful young woman standing by the door. “Oh, she’s new!” 

“Yes and I need you to go see what she needs,” Bog said and folded his long arms over his chest for a moment reminding his mother of her son when he was eight years old and refused to eat his peas until his father did the same thing. (Bog’s father had hated peas, but watching the two men in her life stand off against each other over peas had been funny.) For a little while Griselda had though the two might out-stubborn each other, but Bog ended up winning that round...sort of. His father had caved after an hour and ate the peas, which then forced Bog to eat the peas. Both her men had been very unhappy that night until she had decided they deserved some homemade cookies and had stayed up far too late to make them. She would never forget her little Bog in bed with his little face smeared with chocolate, his father sitting on the bed beside him, talking about what brave men they were for eating their peas while the dipped their cookies in milk. 

Griselda shook the memory away and glared at her son. “Why don’t you go take care of her? I’m busy.” 

“I can take over for ye…” Bog’s accent slipped into a slightly thicker Scottish dialect whenever he was upset or uncomfortable. Griselda raised a brow at her son. Was this young woman making her son uncomfortable? Griselda looked out the window at her again. The poor thing was starting to look a bit lost out there by herself. 

“Bog King this is your gym. Get your skinny ass out there and help that young lady out.” Griselda shook her head and looked back to her computer screen. 

“Mam! Please…” Bog dropped his arms and instead went in for the loving son bit, wrapping his arms around his mother's shoulders and laying his cheek against her head. 

Griselda smirked. Bog was a good son, a very good boy, a good man, but… 

“No, I’m busy ordering the new equipment.” Griselda held her ground and glanced back out at the young woman. Maybe something good was about to make Bog happy. 

Bog groaned. “You’re an evil mother.” 

“Yes dear, but you’ve always known that,” Griselda said without taking her eyes off the computer screen. 

Bog huffed and reluctantly left the office. Griselda smiled, looking up from her computer as he walked by and stuck his tongue out at her. She snickered and shook her head, not sure if her thirty year old son realized how adorable he was and how the tongue had never worked on her, except to make her laugh all the while he was growing up. 

* 

Bog took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his lips rubbing the back of his neck nervously, then gave it a good crack before he marched across the gym toward the pretty woman. 

“Good morning and welcome to King’s Gym. I’m Bog King, owner and operator. What can I help you with?” He held his hand out to her. 

Marianne looked up...and up...and up. He was far taller in person than she had realized, but when she looked into his face she felt all the air go out of her lungs at the sight of his eyes. Eyes so blue they looked like he had cut them from the sky. 

For a moment she didn’t do anything. 

Bog began to sweat. He looked down at his hand, then pulled it back to rub the back of his neck “Sorry...ah…” He smiled. “Let me try again: I’m Bog King and this is King’s Gym. How can I help you?” 

Marianne swallowed, her palms sweaty. Wow...his eyes, and she liked that his nose was so long, and his cheekbones were amazing...and did she hear a hint of an accent? 

“Ah, I want to hit things,” she said just barely stopping herself from groaning at how completely stupid she sounded. Bog’s head tilted a fraction for a moment in confusion before he chuckled. “Well, you came to the right place. If you will follow me, I can discuss the classes we offer and the other services the gym has, as well as gym membership rates if you just want to be able to come here and pound a few bags. First two visits are free.” Bog was proud of himself since he kept his voice neutral and business-like as he turned and led her to an area of the gym where there were a few benches, a water machine, soda machine, and a snack machine. It was only when they arrived at the benches that he realize how stupid “pound a few bags” had sounded...and possibly could be construed as innuendo. Ugh. 

“Can I get you a water or anything?” Bog asked, but Marianne shook her head. “No, no I’m fine.” She sat down at one of the benches and Bog sat across from her. 

“Well, classes...We offer a wide variety at different levels from straight boxing, to aerobic boxing, to kickboxing…” Bog began, but Marianne heard herself blurt out like an idiot. 

“Do you teach classes?” 

Bog looked surprised by the question. “Ah, no. Well I teach a class for eight to ten year olds and I give private instruction, but…” 

“I want that,” Marianne again blurted out. 

Bog looked confused. “The eight year olds…” 

“No, I want to pay for private lessons.” What was she doing?? Marianne gave herself a mental shout, but once her mouth had started she couldn’t seem to stop herself. 

“I usually only give private lessons to boxers who are competing or…” Bog muttered, but as the pretty brunette looked at him, her eyes were so pretty. “...ah sure, I can do private lessons. When would you like to start? I can do every other…” Bog began, but the young woman interrupted him. 

“Can you do the next four nights?” She blushed as he gave her a funny look. “I’m off for the next four days...a long weekend.” 

Bog blinked, then nodded. “Sure, since you are dressed for it, I’m assuming you would like to start now?” 

“If I can. I had a bad morning and I really need to hit something.” She smiled with a blush coloring her cheeks. “Oh, I’m Marianne, Marianne Summerfield.” 

Bog smiled. “Well Marianne Summerfield, why don’t we get started?” 

Marianne grinned. “That sounds great.” 

* 

A few minutes later Bog and Marianne were standing in front of one of the large hanging bags. They had a space around them free of people. 

Marianne frowned. “Don’t I need gloves or something?” 

“In a minute,” he explained. “We’re going to take some time to learn a few basics.” Bog smiled at her cracking his knuckles. “First you need to learn your stance.” 

Marianne watched as Bog took up a position with his feet about shoulder width apart, then he put his left leg out, his foot turned slightly inward. She saw his right leg was back behind him, foot turned so that he was standing slightly sideways, his hips twisted just a little, his hands up in loose fists. 

“Now, watch me and duplicate my stance…” Bog glanced over his left shoulder at her. 

Marianne stepped up beside him and took up the same position. 

Bog grinned. “Very good. Now you want your weight in the center of your body, so bend your knees because you want to be able to move, but you want your back straight, and you don’t want to lean forward…” 

Marianne did as he instructed, but she leaned too far forward, like someone who had seen a boxer in a movie or posing for a picture would do. Bog had seen that stance many times. 

“Here…” He stepped toward her and laid his hand against the small of her back. 

Marianne went ramrod straight. His touch, his fingertips, had just brushed her skin, but the touch was like a bolt of electrical fire, burning while moving through her like lightning. 

Bog noticed her immediate tension and snatched his hand away. “Sorry…” 

“No...don’t be.” She looked up at him and for a moment everything in the gym faded away, and it was just the two of them, staring at each other. 

* 

Griselda had just sat back down at her desk when she glanced up. Her eyes went wide and she stopped mid-movement as she watched her son with the girl he hadn’t wanted anything to do with...was he teaching her how to box? Her son never took on private clients unless he was training athletes for professional competitions, yet there he was showing this woman how to stand correctly. 

Griselda saw the moment when Bog touched the young woman’s back. The two of them went still and stared at each other. 

She felt her heart skip a beat, maybe...oh just maybe… 

Bog’s mother smiled, hope dancing in her eyes. 

* 

Bog blushed looking down at Marianne. “I’m sorry I should have asked permission...I’m just used to…” 

Marianne cut him off. “It’s fine, really. I was just...you surprised me. So...ah…” Her ears felt as if they were burning. “My back should be straight?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes...now...” 

He hesitated, but then very lightly touched her again. “Straighten up with this part of your back aligned…” 

* 

For the next hour, the two of them worked on the basics: stance, basic footwork, upper body position, upper and lower integration jabs, punching drill, jabs with stance ,and jabs with stance and footwork. 

Bog was impressed. Marianne was picking everything up fairly quickly and when she jabbed, there was some real power behind them. He thought she might have a real future in boxing if she decided she was into the sport. 

Marianne was enjoying herself. She was starting to sweat and some muscles were starting to yell about how they were being treated, but she really was enjoying herself and Bog was a great teacher. He was patient, careful, and calm--all aspects that a good teacher needed, she knew. And he smiled at her, often, which was nice too. It wasn’t that he being flirty or using his position, but rather he was genuinely nice and helpful. His blue eyes really lit up when he smiled, but when he smiled at her, directed that smile of his only at her, she felt a shiver. Marianne also noticed that Bog had slightly crooked teeth, which she found immensely attractive. 

“If you’re not too tired, wanna hit something now?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow in question. 

“Yes, yes, and yes!” Marianne grinned with enthusiasm, wiping sweat from her brow with her forearm. 

“Well, let’s get you some training gloves then.” Bog smiled and walked over to where they kept the gloves, taking a moment to pick out a pair for her. After he chose her some boxing gloves he led Marianne over to a bench and motioned for her to sit. He unlaced the gloves and held one up for her to slide her hand in. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Bog didn’t look at her as she slipped the glove over her hand. His fingers brushed the soft skin over her arm, sending shivers up both their spines though they both hid the sensation from the other. Swallowing, Bog focused his attention and worked on lacing and securing her glove in place. 

“Sure.” Marianne smiled. 

“Boxing...something you’ve always been interested in, or is this a new interest that has a face attached to it?” Bog looked up once he was finished, picking up the other glove and holding it ready for her. His gaze held neither accusation nor annoyance aimed at her, just curiosity. 

Marianne blushed before she answered. “Roland Knight, my ex-fiance.” 

Bog cringed. “Ex-fiance, eh?” 

She nodded. “Yeah…” She was quiet for a moment while Bog worked on securing her glove before she said with a sigh in her voice. “He cheated on me, the very day of the wedding.” 

Bog hissed. “Fuck…” His head shot up. “Oh--sorry.” 

“No, ‘fuck’ is the right word.” Marianne chuckled softly. “That happened over a year ago, but this morning I was going to my favorite coffee shop, walked in, and there he was with the woman he had cheated on me with...my best friend. Though I suppose calling her my best friend was wrong too.” Marianne sighed with a little shrug of her shoulders. “Anyway, Roland made some snide comment about how I looked, then he and Rachel--her name is Rachel,” Marianne added. “Anyway, he and Rachel started laughing at me, everyone in the shop turned to look at me...and I just left.” 

Her shoulders sagged. “I was so pissed off, angry at him, angry at myself… just wanted to hit something and when I turned around, there was your gym, like a sign. Come beat up bags to get your anger out Marianne.” She smiled with an embarrassed giggle and shrugged. “Stupid right?” 

Bog was shocked. Why would anyone cheat on Marianne? True, he didn’t know her, but she was pretty. He readjusted that thought. Pretty was the wrong word. Beautiful, she was beautiful and in the short time he had known her, she seemed nice, funny, smart. There was nothing about her that seemed...wrong. 

This Roland Knight person had to be a fucking twat. 

Bog simply chuckled, finishing with her glove. “Nope, not stupid at all. Not everyone who takes up boxing is doing so for the sport. Some just want a good workout, others just want to be able to fight, and some just want to imagine the face of their ex on a bag and punch the shit out of it. Believe me, I’ve done the same thing a time or two.” He grinned at her, causing Marianne to laugh. 

Bog pressed his lips together still smiling. God she had a gorgeous laugh he thought with a pang of longing that hit him so suddenly, it surprised him with its intensity. He swallowed and brushed his feelings aside as he stood. 

“Well, let’s get you started on smashing this idiot Roland’s face.” Bog motioned for her to follow him. “There is nothing in the world like a little violence therapy.” He winked at her and smiled, causing Marianne to feel a tickle in her stomach that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the fact she hadn’t had sex in well over a year. 

* 

The bag was small, not one of the large punching bags Marianne had been thinking she would be hitting. The bag itself was about the size of her head and was held by two attachment straps, one to the floor and one attached to the ceiling. 

“Just move like we practiced... “ Bog instructed. “Let your body relax. You don’t have to hit the bag with all your power, you’re just warming up your shoulders, loosening yourself up and finding a rhythm.” 

Marianne nodded and started to hit the punching bag. The moment her gloved fist connected with the bag, Marianne realized she was in love. She grinned and started to throw herself into the exercise, jabbing her gloved fists at the bag the way Bog had just taught her. The movements came easily to her, like a dance. It was also easy to picture Roland’s smug face each time she hit the bag, though it was hard to hold herself back from throwing her fists with all her strength. She did hold herself back though, focusing on warming up her shoulders and simply feeling the exercise, the flow of her body and punches, like Bog had told her. But she could tell, boxing was not something she was going to give up--the feel and sounds were addicting. 

They practiced on the smaller bag for about ten minutes, Bog giving her some pointers here and there. Marianne could feel the burn in her shoulders; she was going to be sore tomorrow, but she really loved this, loved the feeling and sounds of her fists hitting the bag. It felt immensely satisfying. She realized she also loved listening to Bog speak, the smooth sound of his voice as he gave her instructions. She could listen to him talk all day. 

Bog watched her, clearly impressed. There was something about her, about the way she moved, she made everything flow, as if she was dancing through the air and her punches that connected with the bag flowed with the rhythm of her dance. Marianne was a natural. She could be a good boxer if she put the time in to train, to smooth out the few rough edges she had, which were very few. She was beautiful to watch though. He could spend hours just watching her move and punch, he thought as he reached out and touched her shoulder. 

“Good job...let’s grab some water and I’ll show you how to use the heavy bag.” Bog smiled and motioned for her to follow. 

Marianne was panting just a little more from enjoyment than exhaustion, though she was sweating. Bog noticed how bright and luminous her eyes were and the smile on her face was infectious. 

He didn’t think he had seen anyone have such a good time boxing except...well, except maybe him. 

* 

Bog took one of her gloves off for her so she could hold the bottle of water. She wiggled her fingers before grasping the cold bottle and took a sip. While she was sipping her water, Bog sat next to her. He had gone and grabbed some tape, and she watched as he taped his knuckles. 

“I’m going to show you just a little on how to work the larger bag. They are designed for building your strength and muscle tone. We have two…” He pointed across the gym. “Next to each other so you can watch me, but don’t become too focused on what I’m doing--you need to find your own rhythm.” He smiled and Marianne felt that pang in her chest again. Damn, he was attractive. She thought that maybe part of what made him so attractive was that he wasn’t like Roland at all, the exact opposite, in fact. Where Roland was of average height and built with shining blonde hair and bright green eyes, chiseled features, perfect white teeth, Bog was almost obscenely tall, broad shoulders that tapered into a slender torso and waist. His hair was as black as ink, but his eyes were bright summer sky blue.

Bog was all sharp angles with a long pointed nose and chin, with high cheekbones that looked like someone could cut glass on them. Bog was also much nicer than Roland. There was a kindness in him she could just tell that Roland had always lacked. Roland was a bit of a jerk most of the time (why she had put up with him she’d never know), but in terms of attractiveness, Roland was classically handsome, a prince, the sort of guy girls dreamed about showing up on a white horse when they are thirteen years old, while Bog was...he was...something else entirely. Exotic, alluring, intriguing. 

Marianne smiled, thinking that Bog was the man a girl fell for when she was older and wiser. 

He was something, not forbidden, but...Marianne sucked on her bottom lip having no idea what it was about Bog that was so attractive, but she liked it, she liked him in the less than two hours she’d known him. 

Or maybe it was just the lust talking. 

Bog picked up her glove and smiled gently. “Ready?” 

Marianne set her bottle of water down and held out her hand, sliding it into the glove. “Very ready.” 

* 

For the next twenty minutes Marianne and Bog, side by side, worked on their bags. It had taken Marianne a couple of minutes to find her rhythm, though watching Bog was distracting (Bog found Marianne just as distracting, but his training and muscle memory helped him from messing up his punches.) 

Bog would give her tips and make remarks around her stance or how she threw a punch, helping her to focus better on her technique so that by the time they were done, she was sweaty, tired, and on her way to being sore, but also thrilled. 

The sound of the gloves hitting the bag, the way boxing made her feel--and watching Bog, he was gorgeous, his lean and quick--invigorated her and made her almost forget her anger over Roland. She could tell he was holding back as he worked the bag. 

While Bog was helping her to remove her gloves sitting at the bench they had occupied earlier, when Marianne asked with a smile, “So, same time tomorrow or would there be a better time?” 

Bog smiled too. Her enthusiasm was, he thought again, infectious. “Let me check my schedule, but I think this time every morning for the next...three you said?” He looked up at her and Marianne nodded. “That should be fine. If you want to add more days, we can talk about it on Monday.” Bog found himself hoping she might consider signing with their gym for longer, for more private lessons, but he didn’t say anything about that. 

Marianne smiled, stood and rolled her shoulders, as well as flexing her fingers. 

“We have showers in the back.” Bog pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. 

“Thanks, that would be great.” Marianne stood and groaned. “I’m going to regret this in the morning.” 

Bog laughed. “You’ll be sore, but I promise, you’ll love it.” 

Marianne smiled a little brighter. “I’m holding you to that.” 

Bog stayed seated on the bench watching her walk away, pressing his lips together as his heart sang to him. He shook his head while trying to deny his attraction… 

* 

After Marianne left, Bog’s mother came out and sat next to him on the bench. Bog hadn’t moved as he picked at the tape on his knuckles. “So--who’s she?” 

“New client,” Bog muttered in a quiet tone and kept his eyes on his hands as he worked to untape his hands. 

Griselda lifted a brow. “You don’t usually train newbies.” 

He shrugged. “She’s an upstart, she has a lot of potential. I thought I would see what happens.” 

“That’s still not like you,” Griselda observed smiling. She was quiet for a little bit, then added, “She’s very pretty.” 

“Yeah, she is…” Bog said as he worked the tape free on his other hand, then stopped and snapped his mouth shut as he realized what he had just said. 

Griselda smiled and patted her son’s knee saying nothing else as she got to her feet. 

Bog glared at his mother’s retreating back. How did she always do that? 

* 

Over the next three days Marianne showed up at the same time every morning just after the gym opened. 

Griselda smiled and watched the two of them as they worked together, laughing, helping each other, Bog teaching Marianne everything he knew and Marianne, from what Griselda could see, picked up everything easily and with relish. Marianne did in fact show promise and Bog was going to talk to her about extending her lessons and adding some kickboxing. He was convinced Marianne could pursue boxing more seriously. 

It was nice to see her son take an interest in someone even if he was denying his interest in the young woman as a woman and not solely as a potential boxer. 

She had seen the look in her son’s eyes when he would glance at Marianne when she wasn’t looking. Griselda saw a longing in his gaze. 

Griselda felt sure that Marianne had an interest in her son beyond boxing too. She could tell by the way Marianne looked at her son, especially when Bog was turned away. That girl had the hots for her son. 

The entire thing was like watching one of those romance movies with all the longing gazes and no one doing anything about anything...and then you get some ridiculous tragic ending because everyone in the film was acting stupid. God, she hated those movies. 

If only the two of them would recognize that shared a desire for each before it was too late. 

She frowned wondering if she could offer the young woman a deal on a membership to encourage her to stay on until her son got his shit together? She had to think of a way to get Marianne to stay long enough for the two of them to figure out that they liked each other. 

* 

It was late, the streetlights had started to flick on as Marianne, dressed in a pair of cut-off shorts, flip flops and a purple tank top, wandered down the sidewalk. She wasn’t even sure why she was here. She had grown restless at home, her thoughts on Bog, on boxing...on Bog again. She had needed to get out, so she had gone for a drive and then found herself parking along the street where Bog’s gym was located. 

Marianne was supposed to go back to work tomorrow but she had called work this afternoon and had extended her vacation, adding another week. Her boss had been fine with it. In fact, Elizabeth had been pleased because Marianne hadn’t used much of her vacation and her boss had been pressuring her to use more vacation time before she cracked. 

She wasn’t sure why she had extended her vacation, but she also planned to extend her lessons with Bog. He had mentioned it this morning, let her know he would be open to teaching and training her more if she wanted… 

Marianne wasn’t sure what she wanted. 

No, that wasn’t true. She knew exactly what she wanted--she wanted Bog. She wanted him naked and on his back. 

A hot blush rushed over her. She didn’t remember ever being this...wanton about Roland, not once in the entire time they were together, but Bog...watching that man box, watching the sweat rolling down his neck, or down his back when he took his shirt off, listening to that voice of his...each lesson was building into a test of her control! She was pretty sure Bog was attracted to her too. 

There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he said her name, and the way he very lightly touched her back or her arm. 

Maybe she was wrong, maybe her lust-addled mind was seeing things. Maybe she had no idea what she was doing… 

And she had no idea what to do about any of it. 

Since she was here, Marianne thought about going to her favorite coffee shop. She hadn’t been there since the morning she had seen Roland and Rachel...and there was no way they would be there that night so why not? 

When she pushed open the doors Marianne half expected to see them, but the shop was nearly dead. It was late and they would be closing in the next fifteen minutes. Just enough time for her to get a mocha latte. 

* 

The barista was a sweet young woman who made her latte quickly and wished her a goodnight without once losing her smile. That had made Marianne feel a little better. 

After getting her order, Marianne stepped outside, blowing on her coffee through the little hole at the top of her plastic lid when her phone rang. She frowned, stopping on the sidewalk under a streetlamp to rummage in her purse with one hand. After a few annoying seconds, she pulled out her phone. She hit the answer button without looking. 

“Hello.” 

“Marianne!” 

Her eyes widened. It was Roland. 

“What do you want?” Marianne growled, her expression turning dark. “And how did you get my number?” 

“I needed to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I saw you at the coffee shop.” Roland’s voice had the smooth charm he employed when he wanted something. 

“Look Roland, I don’t care what you were thinking about. I want to know how you got my number because…” 

“Marianne, I want you back,” Roland said softly, causing Marianne to stop in her tracks, her grip on her phone tightening enough that the plastic cover squealed in protest. 

”What did you say?” she hissed back. 

She could almost see the smile on Roland’s face, see him reaching up to wrap a finger around that one blonde curl that he kept stylishly positioned across his forehead to give him a rakish look. 

“I want you back. After I saw you...things with me and Rachel haven’t been that great. She wants things from me…” He sighed dramatically. “She wants to get married and she wants children...Marianne...I just…” His voice took on the sultry edge he liked to use when he was trying to seduce her. “I just want you. I realized that the moment I saw you again. I was scared about committing to you before, but now...I was so wrong Marianne. I want you back.” He purred, but the sound that used to make her feel just a bit dirty, now disgusted her, as if slime was rolling down her arms and along her back, cold, gooey, icky, slime. 

“Roland, it’s over. It’s been over and it’s going to stay over,” Marianne ground out from between her clenched teeth. “I don’t want you calling me again. I’m going to change my number and…” 

“Oh come on Buttercup, don’t be like that,” Roland purred. 

Marianne snarled. Hearing Roland call her buttercup made her want to rip his lying tongue out!! “Don’t you call me buttercup you lying, self-centered, pompous, egotistical BASTARD!!” Marianne yelled into her phone drawing the attention of a few passersby. 

“I wouldn’t go back with you if you were the last man on earth!” she added, ignoring the looks she was getting. 

“Oh come on Marianne. Besides who else do you have? You haven’t had any dates since us have you...aren’t you lonely?” Roland’s voice held a mocking edge that put Marianne on edge. She had a lot of things she wanted to say, none of them good, nor should they be repeated in public. Instead she hung up and dropped her phone into her purse before lost control and threw it across the sidewalk. 

She started stomping down the sidewalk, her phone ringing incessantly in her bag, her coffee forgotten. Another tactic of Roland: pester and harass until you gave into him. Well he could wait until hell froze over! 

Marianne didn’t pay attention to where she was going until she arrived at King’s Gym. 

Stopping by the window Marianne could see that the place was closed, but there was one light on in the back where the boxing ring was located. Marianne pressed her nose against the glass. She could hear the dull thump of music and after a moment she saw Bog come into view. He was stripped down to just his boxer shorts, no shoes, no gloves, and he was moving around the ring fighting an invisible opponent, but not just with punches. As she watched him move out of the shadows into the light and back again, Bog was throwing kicks as well. He had mentioned kickboxing to her the other day... 

Marianne looked around the place as best she could from her position on the outside, but it looked as if Bog was alone. She wondered if he would let her come in to burn off some steam… 

Well the only way to find out was to ask. 

Marianne knocked on the door. 

* 

Bog moved around the ring punching at invisible opponents as he let the music take over. He had The Black Eyed Peas “Boom, Boom, Pow” playing loudly, drowning out everything, even his thoughts. At first he didn’t hear anything while he worked. 

He liked having time alone like this at night after everyone was done and everything was clean except for the area he was using (which he would clean himself in the morning.) He thought he heard a knock, but he wasn’t sure and besides, why on earth would anyone be here at this time? The gym was closed. Bog ignored the sound and focused on his body and moving when the knock came again. 

Bog stopped and looked around. 

To his complete surprise he saw Marianne, standing by the front door with a large smile on her face and coffee in her hand. Bog couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he saw her. 

He hopped out of the ring, grabbing a towel from the bench nearby to wipe off his face and chest. He grabbed his keys as he walked over to the front door. 

It only took a moment for Bog to open the front door and hold it aside for her. “What are you doing here?” 

Marianne shrugged as she entered angrily with a grunt, her smile gone. 

Bog frowned as he locked the door again. “What’s going on?” 

Marianne sighed, setting her coffee down on a nearby chair and dumping her purse beside it. 

“My ex called me tonight.” 

Bog’s face paled. “Oh?” 

Marianne flopped down on the bench. “Yeah, he had the nerve to tell me he wanted to get back together.” 

“What?” Bog growled. Marianne had told him all about Roland over the last few days. The man was a complete tool, but that still didn’t stop Bog from feeling the bottom drop out of his world. It wasn’t as if he and Marianne had anything going on between them, but the thought of her going back to Roland made him feel slightly ill and lightheaded. 

“So ah...what did you say?” Bog asked as neutrally as possible, nervously running the towel along the back of his neck. 

“I told him I wouldn’t get back with him if he was the last man on earth.” Marianne smiled. 

The wave of relief that washed over Bog made his knees weak. He tried to keep his expression friendly and neutral, and while he had no intention of making any moves on Marianne, he was still overjoyed that she had told Roland off. She deserved better, someone who appreciated her, loved her for just her. 

“Oh, well good,” Bog replied, which sounded weak to his own ears, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Jumping for joy would be ridiculous and Marianne might run off if he acted like that. “So why did you stop by here? We’re closed...” Bog gave her a questioning look. 

“Well see, I was restless and so I went for a drive. I stopped here because my favorite coffee shop is up the street, but then Roland called and I just happened to stop here and I saw you from the window…” She blushed, shrugging. “I’m a little angry right now and I hoped...maye you would let me work off some steam.” She smiled hopefully at him. 

Bog smiled. “Sure...you can grab some clean gym clothes in the back and ah...we can work on your jabs. Sounds good?” 

Marianne got to her feet with a grin of enthusiasm. “Sounds fantastic.” 

* 

A few minutes later Marianne slipped into the ring with Bog. 

She wore a pair of boxer shorts that were a little too big for her and a King’s Gym t-shirt tied under her breasts. Like Bog, she was barefoot as she stepped into the ring. 

Bog had a pair of boxing gloves for her and some flat mitts for himself. 

He grinned as she came into the ring. “Ready?” 

“Yes!” she said with enthusiasm as she came over and held her hands out. Bog laughed and helped put her gloves on before putting on his punching mitts for her to strike. 

The music had just changed to Lady Gaga’s “Lovegame,” which made Marianne smile. She had mentioned just yesterday that she liked Lady Gaga and Bog remembered without saying a word. 

Roland could never remember something so simple as some music she liked. 

Bog grinned, holding up his hands. “Okay, pretend that each hand is Roland’s smug face.” 

Marianne laughed. “Well you better be prepared then, because this is gonna hurt.” 

Smirking Bog held out his hands. “Do your best.” 

“Oh! I will!” Marianne began to punch. 

* 

For the next fifteen minutes, Marianne threw herself into punching Bog’s hands, her teeth grinding into the mouth shield between her teeth. They moved around the ring like they were having a real boxing match while Bog held his hands out, giving her words of encouragement and instruction on her jabs and stance. Marianne could feel herself working up a sweat and watching Bog in front of her wasn’t helping. The man was nearly naked and he was making her hot as hell. Just watching him, shirtless, the play of his muscles in his chest and arms, the way he moved around, taking the punches she threw, his bare legs, the veins in his forearms, hell, evn his bare feet were sexy!! He was becoming more and more distracting until she couldn’t hear Bog’s words, only the smooth tones of his voice caressing her ears, along with the visuals of his naked, muscled chest, the veins popping out on his lean, muscled forearms, a bead of sweat rolling down the middle of his chest, along his flat stomach until it hit the band of his short and was soaked up… 

* 

Bog smiled. Marianne was doing great. Her form had improved over the last couple of days. He really wanted her to get into kickboxing; he just had this feeling her talent for the sport would explode. He pressed his lips together as a tight, hot flash of desire raced through him. The expression on her face showed focus. There was sweat on her neck and staining the middle of her shirt, and her stomach glistened in the dim light of the gym. He even liked the way her hair stuck to her forehead. She was a tight, sexy ball of tough female power...a heady combination. 

“Maybe we should take a…” Bog said, dropping his hands when suddenly Marianne’s gloved covered fist snapped out and hit him across the jaw with a hard right hook. 

Stunned, Bog stumbled back and hit the ropes. 

Marianne squeaked. “BOG!!” 

She rushed over to him as Bog pushed himself back to his feet. He still looked stunned, but he pulled off one of his gloves and gingerly touched his jaw, moving it back and forth. 

“Ow,” he said then licked the corner of his mouth, tasting blood. 

“Oh God are you all right?” Marianne asked. 

Bog smiled at her and nodded. “Yeah, that was…” 

He never finished his sentence as Marianne threw herself at him, her sweat covered body slamming against his, her arms going around his neck at the same time her mouth came down against his in a passionate kiss. 

Bog’s eyes widened comically for a moment, but then he was finishing yanking off his gloves to wrap his arms around her, pulling her up against him as they both stumbled back, hitting the ropes before Bog sank to the mat. 

Groaning Marianne straddled his lap, her mouth hungry against his lips, needing to taste his tongue, to feel his lips, his touch. She couldn’t think of anything else but the way Bog smelled, the way his hands felt as his fingers slid up her sweat damp back and under the shirt she wore. She could feel his erection, the shorts doing nothing to hide the swelling. She ground against him, her clitoris swollen, her body begging for more. 

When Bog grabbed one of her hands, pulling it away. She started to protest only to blush when he began to blindly pull the glove off her hand, his mouth never leaving hers. He freed one hand, then the other, allowing Marianne to grab his shoulders, caress his throat and slide her fingers into his slightly damp hair. She had never been this turned on before. Every part of her he touched burned and the parts of her that Bog hadn’t touched whined and ached for him. 

She ground down on him a little harder. God he felt huge between her legs. She thrust her tongue into his mouth with demanding caresses, her hands gliding down over his chest, her thumbs brushing his nipples then back again. All the while she ground against him, sliding and thrusting. 

Bog grabbed her ass--that felt just as round and perfect as he had imagined--and squeezed, grunting and groaning each time she thrust against him. The shorts did little to shield him from her; each thrust or grind of her hips made him want to whimper with how good Marianne felt. 

He slid his hands up along her torso and over her breasts, squeezing gently while his tongue twisted with hers. When Marianne caught his bottom lip with her lips, tugging on his bottom lip, her eyes opened just enough that Bog could see the brown of her eyes shimmering behind her lashes. She looked so beautiful. She released his lip and kissed him again, her hands once more caressing his chest. 

He groaned and tugged at her t-shirt. Marianne grabbed her shirt, pulling back from his mouth long enough to yank it over her head while Bog stared like a man seeing an angel, before she tossed it to the mat. She wore a sports bra underneath that she pulled off next. The sight of her elicited a sudden intake of breath from Bog. The sight of her perfect breasts, just big enough for him to hold, to squeeze, he was in the presence of the personification of beauty he thought, the most beautiful, perfect woman. 

He cupped her breasts, his hands shaking just a little. He squeezed gently, while at the same time Marianne grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily before pressing her forehead to his and hissed, “Condoms?” 

Bog swallowed. It was hard to think straight with her grinding on his erection, hard to breathe with her breasts in his hands. God, he wanted her. 

“There is a machine just outside the showers, on the wall between the mens and womens…” he managed to choke out. 

“We should get one,” Marianne growled, continuing to thrust and grind herself against him. 

Bog nodded. “Yeah--yeah, that’s a--a good idea.” 

He surprised her when he suddenly pushed himself to his feet, one arm around her waist, his other hand grabbing the ropes. Marianne reacted by wrapping her arms and legs around him as Bog demonstrated just how strong he really was. 

He fumbled a little with the ropes as he carried her and tried to get out of the ring at the same time, but after a second attempt--which was very hard to do while Marianne was licking and biting his throat, her bare breasts pressed against his chest. Oh god, he thought as her tongue traced his collar, but with some effort Bog got them out of the ring safely and headed toward the locker rooms carrying Marianne with him. 

The condom machine was one of the older coin only operated ones that had been installed when his father owned the gym, which luckily for Bog, made it easy to get into. His father had shown him the trick a long time ago. 

When he got them to the machine, he hit the metal cabinet with his fist, two straight down on the top, one one the right side and one on the bottom. The condom machine popped open showing rows of shiny bright condoms. 

Marianne giggled, her tongue in his ear. “Neat trick.” 

Bog chuckled softly. “I’m full of them.” 

“I want you now,” Marianne demanded. 

Bog’s knew his grin must look goofy, but he grabbed a condom from the row without looking, knocking a few to the floor in his haste. “Wher…” 

But Marianne didn’t let him finish as she growled. “Here...now…” 

Bog’s back slammed against the wall and he slid to the floor. Marianne dropped her legs from his waist long enough to push her shorts down, letting them fall to the floor, taking her panties with them before she was hastily pushing at Bog’s shorts, forcing both his shorts and underwear down his long legs. He stumbled a bit, trying to get out of them before Marianne had forced him to the floor, her mouth hungry on his, reaching down between them to grab his erection. 

Bog let out a groan that Marianne could feel in her core when she touched him. His member felt hot, the skin satin soft, thick. He felt perfect she thought while she bit his chin and stroked him. 

He groaned again, his hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. 

“Give me the condom.” Marianne licked his mouth, releasing his member to put her hand out. Bog shakily gave her the condom. He watched her as if under a spell while she ripped open the condom package with her teeth, pulling the rubber free before she backed down his body a little and slid the contraceptive onto his quivering erection. He dropped his head back against the floor with a deep groan. 

Marianne was quivering, she ached so badly. She straddled his hips, grasping his erection in her hand again and leaned down on her other hand by his shoulder, adjusting herself against him. 

Bog reached up to grasp her thighs just as Marianne pressed down on him. 

They both cried out as their bodies came together. Marianne felt herself bend like a bow when Bog entered her, filling her completely. She sucked on her bottom lip, her hand pressed against his chest. “Uuhh…” she moaned, tightening around him, at the same time pressing her clitoris against him. She shuddered, the edge of an orgasm tickling, teasing her already. 

Bog growled and groaned, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cumming. She felt good. No, more than good, but he couldn’t think of words at the moment while he was struggling. 

He swallowed and reached up to cup her breasts again, his thumbs brushing against her tight, pert, deep pink nipples. 

Shuddering at his touch Marianne ground her hips against him and came, a hard, fast orgasm that caught her by surprise with its intensity. She gasped and cried out, arching, her fingers pressing into Bog’s chest. She had never orgasmed like this. All her other orgasms has been self-administered, every one of them and they were nothing even close to this. She thrust harder arching, groaning. 

“Uh Bog…” 

Bog pushed himself up, gripping her hips while she ground down on him and pushed his back against the wall. He hissed with pleasure grabbing her hips, his eyes fluttering as he struggled to hold back. She felt so good--nothing had ever felt as good as Marianne. He brought his legs up, crossing them so Marianne had a seat, which she immediately took advantage of, arching and rising up to bounce slowly, but firmly back down on him. When she captured his mouth again, kissing him, Bog melted. All the feelings he had been keeping trapped and broke through the crack she had created on the first day. It was like he could suddenly feel again. 

He whimpered and held her, pulling away to drop his head down to her breasts when she arched again, his tongue curling and sliding along her nipples, sucking the sensitive rosebuds in between his lips. 

Digging her fingers into his shoulders, Marianne ground and bounced, her clitoris throbbed and pulsed with the beat of her heart and her second orgasm felt like an earthquake in her groin. What had she been missing? This was what lovemaking was supposed to be, she thought with clarity, something shared… 

She squeezed Bog eliciting a shuddering groan from him. “Marianne...uh...Marianne...I can’t...” 

She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. His eyes glowed, a deep, clear blue. “Don’t hold back…” she whispered huskily. “Come with me Bog…” 

Bog looked up at her, his arms wrapping tight around her, and pulled her close. Marianne slowed her thrusts, gently pulling herself up along his length, then sliding back down again. She pulled up then slid down, felt Bog swelling inside her, his body shuddering as he watched her until she felt and saw the moment he couldn't hold back. 

Bog groaned long and deep, jerking as he came, his climax peaked and burst like a balloon. He grunted, tightening his hold on her at the same time that Marianne groaned his name. 

“Uhh...Bog...” She tightened and he felt her cum again, bouncing slowly up and down on his shaft, their shared orgasm causing their bodies to shudder and quake together until they both collapsed. 

* 

Bog took a slow deep breath through his nose, his eyes closed, his head leaning back against the wall while he stroked his fingers up and down Marianne’s back. 

Marianne had her head nestled against his shoulder and sighed dreamily. 

Bog looked down at the top of her head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Ah...so...would you like to go out sometime?” 

Marianne giggled without looking up, and her arms around his chest tightened. “I would like that a lot.” 

Bog grinned goofily with happiness. 

* 

A month had passed. 

Marianne was training every day now, hitting the gym after work, while every weekend she and Bog spent almost all of their free time together. She had never in her life been this happy. Bog was sweet, a gentleman, and...they were in love. After four weeks they were already discussing moving in together. She had the blessing of her sister and dad and Bog’s mother had loved Marianne the moment she saw her. Marianne was more than ready for a lifetime adventure with Bog. While the future was unclear and never sure, she had none of the doubts that had plagued her when she had been with Roland. 

Roland still hadn't given up on trying to win her back even when Marianne told him she was seeing someone. Even after another month! Things with Rachel must be bad and he must be having trouble finding a replacement, Marianne thought. She doubted he really wanted her back, but rather just didn’t want to be alone and pestering Marianne would be an ego boost to him. Roland still didn’t believe her, especially when Marianne refused to give him any details or give him Bog’s name. That was all she needed, for Roland to show up and try to...well hell, she didn’t know what Roland would do, but she wasn’t going to help him do anything. 

But tonight was Saturday night, the gym was full--as it usually was on a Saturday--and Marianne was here enjoying herself with Bog. 

Marianne was helping teach a beginner class, a mixed class of eight to ten year old boys and girls. She loved teaching and was thinking about taking Griselda and Bog up on their offer to have her teach full-time. She loved her job, but she felt that teaching was more fulfilling. 

“All right Lindsey, can you show us how…” Marianne was addressing a little dark skinned eight year old girl with a pair of the biggest brown eyes Marianne had ever seen and a knack for boxing. 

Lindsey was quickly becoming a star student when the door to the gym opened, the chime drawing Marianne’s attention. 

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as Roland sauntered in. 

He was smiling, looking smug as he looked around. The urge to hide was strong, but too late as Roland’s gaze settled on her. 

“Marianne!!” He waved. 

“Oh god,” Marianne muttered before turning and calling out to Ian. “Hey, can you take over for a minute?” Ian, who had just been doing some personal warm ups, looked over and saw the man making a beeline toward Marianne. “Yeah sure.” 

Marianne smiled. “Thanks. Back in a minute kids--be good for Ian.” 

Hurrying across the gym Marianne stopped Roland in the middle of the room, her hand out. “What are you doing here? And how did you even find me?” she growled and rested her hands on her hips. 

Roland smirked. “I have my ways. I like the look by the way.” He gave her a once over that made Marianne feel dirty. 

“Roland you need to leave,” she said in a stern tone. 

“Why, what if I'm a customer?” Roland smirked again. 

“Roland…” Marianne’s voice held a warning, but then her heart skipped a beat when she heard and felt Bog approach behind. “There a problem Marianne?” 

Roland sniffed, looking Bog up and down and clearly finding the taller man wanting. “Go back to punching your bags, Lurch. Marianne and I have some personal business to discuss that I’m sure would tax your small brain.” 

“No, don’t go,” Marianne growled reaching back to take Bog’s hand. “Roland, this is my boyfriend, Bog. He owns this gym.” 

Roland sneered. “Bog? What kind of name is that? You don’t look like you own a gym.” 

Bog didn’t say anything, just simply growled. 

Roland wrinkled his nose in dismissal of Bog and turned his attention back to Marianne. “Look, see? This shows I’m serious. I found you and now you and I can go catch some dinner and rekindle our romance. It’ll be fun.” Roland reached for her, but Marianne stepped away from him. Bog growled again, his free hand balling into a fist. “Don’t touch her,” he ground out from between his teeth. 

Roland opened his mouth, but Marianne hissed. “Roland, I’m giving you one chance to leave. If you don’t then you’re going to be carried out.” 

Roland laughed. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “Come on Buttercup…” 

Marianne’s eyes flared. She looked at Bog, who smiled at her. He had heard all about the buttercup nickname and how much that name pissed Marianne off. He gestured with his head at Roland without saying a word, but she knew exactly what her lover was asking. 

Marianne nodded. 

Bog gave her a wink. 

Roland was still talking, not recognizing the danger he was in. “...I like that you’ve gotten in shape, maybe that was part of the reason why I…” 

Roland never finished what he was going to say before two fists, one belonging to Marianne and the other belonging to Bog, smashed Roland in the face.


End file.
